


The Rise of Roman’s Empire

by overall_sin_and_trash



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Arson, Bruce And Roman Are Friends, Gay Roman Sionis, Kinda, M/M, New Jersey, nj is gross, tw: abuse, tw: sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25222471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overall_sin_and_trash/pseuds/overall_sin_and_trash
Summary: Roman Sionis has had enough of the abuse at his parent’s hands. Now it’s time for some fiery revenge.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. Fire

New Jersey. New fucking Jersey. Ew. If this was the newer model, Roman would hate to see the old one. Fuck, he detested New Jersey. The small shitstain of a state managed to cram every single horrible element of America into its tiny area. Hicks, entitled rich white people, New Yorkers, racists, low budget mafia families, and just an abundance of bare fucking space.

As far as Jersey was concerned, Princeton was a nice area. Roman did not agree. At all. Why? Because of its prized possession. Good old fucking Wayne Manor. God, Roman hated the Waynes. He’d literally gone to the funeral and had to turn his laughter into tears. Stupid rich fucks believed it too. Bruce and Roman were friends as kids— though, it was a pretty one sided relationship, given that Roman hated Bruce with a burning passion. But of course Mr and Mrs Sionis couldn’t have their only child feuding with the sole heir to the Wayne fortune, so Roman put on his carefully practiced smile and sucked it up.

That smile got him places. He was many things, and among them was charming. As he did a lot of things, Roman hated it. It was perfectly crafted by his father, in that he’d be slapped if he spoke what was considered to be out of turn or showed his true feelings.

One time, when his father struck him in the face, his mother cried out in shock. Roman though she finally was going to step in and defend him. That, apparently, was too much to ask. The fake motherfucker reprimanded her husband only with “Not the face! We have company coming!” She only cared what their reputation would be if they were outed as abusers.

But this would all come to an end soon. The years of abuse, the constant facade of a happy life; It was all going to burn.

And Roman? Roman was holding the match.

Standing in his childhood bedroom, he smiled to himself. The many masks on his walls returned the favor. Gently, he swayed to the music playing in his head. Some old tune he could never remember the name of. The fine carpet, soaked in kerosene, made what would normally be an annoying sound, but tonight it was different. Tonight he relished in all the unpleasantries of the moment along with the beauties. After all, he was going to remember this night for the rest of his life.

“The things these walls have seen.” Roman whispered to himself. “The stories these masks could tell.” He walked over to one of his childhood favorites and stroked it. “I made the same expression when he did it. I was all wide eyes and gaping mouth as he pushed me down to the bed and—“ the antique wood snapped in his suddenly vice grip. “Silent witnesses. You’d never be able to convince the court that the great Richard Sionis was abusing his recluse son.”

He lit his cigarette and took a long drag as he walked out of the room, then flicked it behind him.

The room lit up within an instant. Naturally, the fire alarms wouldn’t go off, since Roman had cut them all out. There’d be no sounds at all, so that his parents would inhale smoke in their sleep until they suffocated. Part of him hoped the fire would get them before they passed, so that their last moments would be as painful as Roman’s life had been at their hands.

As he stood on the great lawn, he felt something he’d nearly forgotten: The warmth of an embrace. If he’d know that fire was such a friend, he’d have burned this fucking mansion down years ago. He spread his arms and closed his eyes, content as the raging flames danced along his eyelids.

“I told you both that you’d regret treating me like shit.” He murmured, smiling. “I told you that you’d burn in fucking hell. Well, here you are.” He gestured grandly. “You did always call me a devil. Now it all makes sense.”

Sirens wailed in the distance. He sighed. Time to put on his best distressed “you have to save my parents” face. It was one he’d perfected in the mirror for hours.

There was nothing that could go wrong.

Nothing...

...right?


	2. Old Friends

The police and fire department bought his cheap trick like the fucking morons they were. Roman would remember to pat himself on the back later on for containing his glee when a ashen face officer came to give him news.

“Mr. Sionis, I hate to tell you this, but we did find your parents. Your mother is dead.”

Roman actually felt his heart drop. Had he messed up? No, he couldn’t have! “And my father?”

“He’s awake, but he’s in critical condition. He won’t last longer than a week or two.”

Perhaps this was for the best. This way, Roman could monologue to his father about what really happened. “Oh.” He said, genuinely surprised. “Okay, thank you.”

After some light questioning, Roman was free to leave. For a brief moment, he wondered where he’d go. Gotham was a ways away, and he had no car of his own. Not that he could drive one, anyway. Then his phone rang.

“Hello? This is Roman Sionis speaking.”

There was a laugh on the other side of the line. “Hello, Roman. I see you didn’t save my number.” Holy shit. It was Bruce fucking Wayne.

“Shit, hey, Bruce. I didn’t think to check the caller ID, I’m in a bit of a tricky situation right now.”

“Yes, your house burned down and you’ve lost your mother. Your father is going to die in a matter of days.”

Roman paused. “How the hell do you know that?”

“Oh, I know everything that happens in this neck of the woods. Listen, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but your family has always been a good friend of mine. Why don’t you spend the night at Wayne Manor? It’s significantly closer than Gotham, and it’s awfully late.”

He wanted to fucking scream. His mind traitorously supplied the fact that it was a very nice offer, and it’d pay to continue having good relationship with the heir to Wayne Enterprises. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” His words came through a tightly set jaw. “I’ll call a cab right now.”

“No need.” Bruce said quickly. “My faithful butler Alfred is on his way right now, he’ll be there in ten.”

Fucking Bruce Wayne. Assuming Roman would just say “yes, please, Lord Wayne, let the humble peasant that I am stay at your splendid estate” and maybe bow too. It was a good forty minutes to Wayne Manor, and somehow Bruce not only knew about the fire, but sent his fucking butler over thirty minutes before asking if Roman even wanted to stay the night. Jackass.

Alfred was in surprisingly good health, granted the last time Roman had seen him was a little over a decade ago.

“Hello, Mr. Sionis.” Alfred greeted him as he climbed in the fancy black car. “Terribly sorry about what happened.”

“Yes, it’s a real shame.” Muttered Roman, looking out the widow at the blazing fire in the distance. “It was a beautiful house.”

“I meant about your parents.”

Roman nearly scoffed. “I never liked them much anyways.”

They rode in silence for the rest of the drive.

Bruce was there to meet him when they arrived. “Hello, Roman. It’s been such a long time!”

He gave a false smile. “Too long, Bruce, much too long.”

Excusing Alfred, Bruce signaled Roman to follow him towards the garden. When they reached the fountain, he broke the silence. “You set the fire, didn’t you?”

Roman’s eyes went wild. “What?! How dare you, assuming that I—“

“Roman,” Bruce cut in, catching his old friend’s flailing hands. “Relax. I think I know why you did it.”

He yanked his hands back and sat on the edge of the fountain “Why?”

“Your father. He was abusing you, wasn’t he?”

Roman’s chest felt tight. “If I tell you this, you have to promise you won’t tell anyone.”

“Of course.”

“He raped me.” Roman whispered, blunt.

This was a shock to Bruce. His eyes were wide. “What?! How old were you? Why would he...?”

“Fifteen.” Roman croaked, looking away and hating how pathetic he sounded. “He found outthat I had a boyfriend. He thought that he could traumatize me out of having gay sex.”

There was a heavy silence.

“And your mother...?”

“She knew. She didn’t care. The first time I met you I was wearing makeup, because my fucking shitty father punched me in the face for not getting ready fast enough— and all my mother cared about was how we would look for you guys.”

Bruce put his hand on Roman’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Roman.”

He laughed dryly, trying to hold back his tears. “I hated you, you know.” He said, still not looking at the other man. “You were the perfect child with the perfect parents. I hated you because I’ve always been so fucking broken.” Bitter tears rolled down his cheeks. “And I hated you more when you actually were nice to me. I didn’t understand why someone like you would even pretend to like someone like me.”

“You’re not broken, Roman.” Bruce soothed.

“I was dropped on my fucking head at birth. As a child I was bitten by a raccoon and suffered from terrible recurring fevers that nearly killed. My parents always said there was nothing in my eyes after I was dropped, just a dull blue. And you know what they did? They paid everyone off. No one could know that I was a sickly child with weird mask obsessions. And when my dad found out I was dating another boy—“ his voice cracked. “He did the one thing I feared most, I had been so grateful that he was only hitting me. But then it all changed. And I knew that I would kill them.”

Another silence.

“So,” Roman said quietly. “Are you gonna call the cops?”

Bruce shook his head. “No, Roman. I won’t tell anyone.”

They both retired not long after that.

After that night, Roman still expected the cops to show up at some random moment and arrest him. It never did happen though, after a few days of anxiety. Perhaps it never would. In any case, Roman had work to do, and a dying father to visit.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make my day!


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